His Treasure
by Amme Moto
Summary: To most people, Treasure is a general idea. Something accumulated over time, and guarded so closely it’s almost greedy to the outside eye. But not for Rick. Rick knew what his treasure was. He just didn't know it could change form. MFOMT RickXClaire


**His Treasure**

What is a treasure, really? To a material person treasure can be money, riches, wealth, or even jewels. Something accumulated over time, and guarded so closely it's almost greedy to the outside eye. The one goal is to gain more of the treasure. If one is not careful, the art of collecting treasures could quickly turn into piracy; a simple need for things shiny or wealthy can turn into an all-out lust for riches and gold. They lose sight of their original treasure, only on the lookout for _more._

But not for Rick. Rick knew what his treasure was. It had been in his possession since he was six, when his father first disappeared to help his mother get better from her sickness. He held onto the cherished object all his life, and even in the cluttered mess that passed as his room, he knew exactly where it was; made a point of flicking his blue eyes in that direction to keep sight of it.

He wouldn't let that watch get away from him. Nothing would make him lose sight of his treasure.

He used to think about his treasure all the time. He'd daydream about the day he went to look for it and instead of finding the watch in its special spot, he'd find his father, wrapping it around his wrist and smiling at him as if he knew it would be in that exact spot the whole time.

There were other times when he would have nightmares about his treasure. He dreamed he would wake up and it would be gone from him. He'd trash his room looking for it and it wouldn't be there at all. The guilt of losing something so precious would almost be too much to take, and he'd wake up shaking.

The first time he met _her, _he'd been dozing off, at the beginning of the good dream, where he heard the door open and his father appeared, smiling and wondering where his watch was.

It sort of scared him a little bit when the door actually opened. The bell _ding_ed above him and he started.

"Good morning," An unfamiliar voice rang. Rick frowned, leaning over the desk to peer at the woman standing in the doorway. "I hope you guys are open now."

"Uhh…." Rick rubbed his eyes, standing and making his way around the desk to get a better look at who had startled him out of his reverie. "Actually, we're closed on Sundays. My mother has her doctor's appointments on Sundays and she's usually wiped out by the time she gets back."

Rick could see the girl now. She was a medium-sized blonde, with sharp, piercing blue eyes and a dozen or so freckles on her cheekbones. She scratched at her blue overalls as if she wasn't used to them entirely. Rick stared, cocking his head to one side.

"Sorry," He started. "Do I know you?"

The girl shook her head, letting Rick see all of the long, thick blonde hair. It fell well past her shoulder blades.

"No," She stated. "I just moved into Ravenne Farm."

Rick laughed now. "I'm sorry," The girl pinched her face together in a mock-snarl. Then she giggled a little bit herself.

"Yes, it's been quite a challenge, I'll admit." The woman agreed. Then she slapped her forehead. "Oh, I'm sorry! My name is Claire. And you are….?"

"Rick," Rick finished. "My mother owns the Poultry Farm." Claire nodded, glancing around the house.

"Well," She stretched. "I don't mean to take up any of your time. I'll just be going."

Rick whimpered. He hated making people leave his house without something to offer them, especially newcomers.

"Wait,"

Claire stopped with her hand on the door handle. She turned around and stared at Rick, bewildered.

"Do you like eggs?" Rick asked. Claire shrugged.

"I don't _hate _them," She smirked a little. Rick puzzled for a moment over the tone she'd used. It wasn't one he'd heard before. He could tell she was implying something underneath her words, but he couldn't figure out what.

Oh, well.

"Well, then here!" Rick smirked, pulling out his new spa-boiled egg and handing it to Claire. She held her hand out and he dropped it gently into her red-gloved hand. "It's a spa-boiled egg," He explained when Claire examined the yellow-tinged egg carefully, as if checking for bugs. "My all-time favorite."

And Claire beamed at him. Her gloved hand closed around the item and she nodded, but Rick was still caught by that lop-sided all-out grin on her face. It made her seem enigmatic, like she was an eternal star in a pitch black sky. And all the light was aimed at Rick.

"Thank you," She whispered sincerely. "I feel welcome already."

And with that, she left. Rick sighed. He stared at the clock. His mother wouldn't be home for another hour or two, and Popuri never came home on Sundays until after dark. He shrugged, heading upstairs to inspect his treasure.

**XXXXX**

The next time Rick saw the instantly-famous farmer girl, it would be two weeks later, after she'd already made one thousand G from shipping items and crops. Zack had come by the day before, bragging on his new best friend, the farmer Claire. She would work all day long, he said, then stay and talk while he came to pick up her items for shipping. He usually ended up staying for an hour or so, with so much to talk about. Then they would both venture up to Duke's bar where they'd drink and be social with everyone for hours on end.

Rick sighed. The girl was a tomboy. Figured. He sat at the table, slouched over the side with his chin almost half-way across. His arms stretched out in front of him lazily. He'd already fed and taken care of the chickens for the day, so unless someone came in and wanted a chicken, he had nothing to do for the day.

It would be a good time to go upstairs and shine his treasure. He hadn't tried to look for it the whole day. One of the chickens had been sick that morning and he spent the better part of three hours trying to get it better. Since he had nothing to do _now_, he could just go upstairs and—

_Ding!_

"Hello again!" Lillia called happily as the blonde came through the door. "What can we do for you today?"

Claire made her way up to the front desk where Lillia was comfortably seated and began her small talk for the day. Rick glanced up at the woman, squinting in thought as he questioned silently how someone so petite (he realized now that thinking _medium-sized _had been a grave mistake; she was shorter than he was and often slouched her shoulders to make her look smaller) could make up one thousand Gs in a matter a weeks. As a matter of fact, she _did _look a little tired. There were small bags under her eyes that were slightly hard to see if you weren't looking.

And for the record, _Rick wasn't looking_.

Her hair was pulled up this day, probably to stay out of her way while she watered the plants. Rick could see little strands that had pulled out of the ponytail, though, which also suggested that she'd been working with her new horse again.

"So what can we get for you today?" Rick interrupted the small talk between Claire and his mother, yawning. Claire's eyes met his and she mimicked his yawn, except larger, showing large, sharp teeth. She stretched backwards languidly, throwing her arms in the air and pulling her muscles taut.

"My, my," Lillia commented. "You look very tired. Are you sure you don't want to lay down for a bit?"

Claire's eyes snapped open, and after a moment her arms were back at her sides and her mouth was clamped shut. She shook her head.

"I'm fine," She answered. "I just came to get a chicken, actually."

Rick stood. "All right," He conceded. "Let's go pick one out."

Claire left the money on the counter with Lillia and followed Rick out to the chicken coop. Once inside, Rick pointed to the newest batch of the youngest adult chickens, allowing her to pick the one she liked best.

Claire frowned, rubbing her chin. She picked up one chicken and turned it around in her arms. The red chicken clucked, and she set it down to pick up another. Rick couldn't tell what she was looking for. As far as he knew, he was the only one who could tell a chicken's personality by looking at it. What Claire was doing seemed a little unorthodox, considering she was a new farmer.

At last, the fifth chicken she picked up seemed to be her choice. She handed the chicken to Rick, who promptly took it and gave it its usual inoculations.

"Let's take it to your farm," He said, tucking the chicken underneath his arm. Claire nodded, making her own way toward her farm.

Rick also noticed Claire's apparent stagger as she walked down the road toward her rather large farm. He frowned slightly. Had she hurt her leg on something?

Before he could ask her, he was inside her farm and gaping. The small amount of money she had come to Ravenne Farm with she had apparently spent on crops, because now there were seven three-by-three crops of different vegetables in strategic spots in her almost completely clear field.

"Whoa…." Rick stammered. He hadn't been on the farm since before Claire even came, and it had looked _way _worse than this. "You did this in two weeks?"

Claire sighed, as if telling the answer would remind her of some unhappy memories. She closed her eyes and nodded. "I did," She confirmed.

"I bet it was hard," Rick let Claire guide him to the chicken coop and open the door for him. She shook her head.

"It wasn't _easy_,"

There was that _tone _again. It irked Rick a little bit when he couldn't decipher what she meant. He set the chicken down in the coop and rubbed his hands together, ridding his skin of dirt.

"Have you considered food?" He asked. Claire smirked.

"Yes," She answered. "I bought some before I bought the chicken. The way you were staring at me, I thought you were listening."

Rick fought to keep his composure together. He could feel a blush creeping up his neck and into his cheeks.

He had _not _been staring.

"Tell you what," He started, a smirk on his own face. Claire raised her eyebrows to the challenge. "I'll give you a week's worth of chicken feed for free if you can tell me how many days it takes to hatch an egg."

Claire now was the one who flushed. Her eyes widened and suddenly became much deeper; an ocean shade of blue, deeper than the farthest depths Rick had ever seen. The way her cheeks turned red made her freckles stand out more.

Rick thought—with some horror—that it was cute.

"I read this in that book I borrowed from Mary," She murmured to herself. She scratched her head for a moment then snapped her gloved fingers. "I got it! Three days."

Rick nodded, suddenly a little happier than before.

"Good job!" He slapped her on the shoulder playfully. "I'll get your feed over here later,"

"Good," Claire held the chicken coop open again and let Rick exit.

"Oh!" Rick turned around, nearly bearing down on top of Claire. She squeaked a little bit and collided into his arms. He gripped her shoulders tightly, trying to keep them both balanced.

"I—I uh…."

Claire couldn't form a sentence correctly. She instinctively huddled into the chest protecting her, unsure of what to do.

Rick, on the other hand, was surprised at how small Claire actually was. She looked petite all right, but when Rick had a hold of her and she was drawn up into him, she seemed even smaller than before. He was stunned for a moment, and for that moment, all he could do was hold her there.

"I…." He licked his lips cautiously, toning his voice down to a whisper. "I was just, uh, going to ask if you had named your chicken yet."

Claire wouldn't look him in the face. He was still gripping her shoulders, he noticed, but couldn't find the strength to let go for some reason. She stared at his chest, seemingly to memorize the stitching patters on his forest green apron where his mother patched it when it tore.

"A…Arakis." She answered, her voice a ghost of a murmur. Rick had to strain to hear it. "I named her Arakis."

Rick nodded, gently letting go of Claire's shoulder. He patted her on the head, further messing up her hair.

"You know," He offered. "If you're looking for ways to save money, wait until Summer. Karen's shop sells corn seeds then, and when it grows you can throw it into the mill and it will turn into feed."

"T-Thanks," Claire muttered. She clamped one arm around the other and looked toward the ground.

Rick couldn't take much more. He said his goodbyes to Claire and left. While making his way back to the Poultry Farm, he began to think things over.

As he returned home and gathered up the feed he was to deliver to Ravenne Farm later that night, he suddenly realized something that made him gasp loudly.

He'd forgotten about his treasure.

In a panicked, frenzied rush, Rick bolted up the stairs and into his room, where he instantly grabbed his treasure and held it to his chest lovingly, almost as carefully as he had held Claire there moments before.

**XXXXX**

It would be precisely another two weeks later when Rick would talk to Claire again, but this time because he was simply avoiding her. He would find himself thinking more about her during his work time than his treasure. Instead of thinking of going upstairs to wind his watch or to shine it or make sure it was where he left it (which, he knew, was often not the case—he _did _live with a little sister), he was thinking about Claire, and when she would show up next. He would sit there, realizing that he was thinking about her, and jerk suddenly. Once he knocked one of his mother's vases off of the desk and onto the floor, shattering it.

Now, though, he was stomping off to the beach to find his sister. It was Summer fifth, and Kai was in town again. He knew if his sister was anywhere, she would be in his shop. He marched across the sand and flung open the door to the beach house. He stopped.

Popuri sat at the bar, talking with Kai. That was expected, of course. They were laughing at some joke that probably wasn't even funny in the slightest. Popuri was eating a snow cone, more than likely blueberry since it was her favorite flavor and it was blue. These were also expected.

What wasn't expected was Claire, sitting there with them, laughing along.

She had her back to him, so he couldn't see her, but he knew she was laughing. Just because he hadn't talked to her in a few weeks didn't mean he hadn't seen her in the bar late at night, or hadn't delivered more feed to the chicken coop. He'd heard her laugh many times, and it wasn't a sound he was willing to forget.

In his opinion, her laughter was like milk, running through a sieve as effortlessly as clouds wafted through the sky, the tone depending on what kind of funny was being simulated.

By now Kai had noticed him standing in the doorway, though, and he was brought out of his thoughts when Kai addressed him.

"Are you going to stand there staring at Claire's back all day, or are you going to yell at me like you usually do?"

Claire jumped, whirling around in her seat to find out who Kai was talking to. She met Rick's eyes and they locked together.

Rick was more surprised still to see Claire now. Her hair was down now, as was her usual style now that she'd given up crops completely and used livestock for her sole source of income. Her large, azure eyes looked worn out, as if she hadn't slept in a few days. She wore a new pair of overalls, ones that she'd been proud to buy from her best friend Zack a few days ago.

"Don't you have a farm to run?" He asked, placing his hands on his hips. Claire scoffed.

"It's not like I have _nothing _to do," She explained, using that tone Rick could never identify. "Popuri invited me to come with her."

Rick suddenly felt a pang of anger when he saw Claire. Just what was she doing with _Kai_, of all people?

"Whoa, hey, man," Kai seemed to understand the sudden flash in Rick's eyes. "Popuri brought her over. She said that she looked a little tired and could use some of my soup, so I made some for her."

It was true, from what Rick could tell. Claire was in fact sipping from a steaming bowl of soup. She took a taste, slowly slurping it off the spoon and glancing warily at Kai, then back to Rick.

"Popuri," Rick ignored Kai. "Mother wants you back at the shop. Go."

Popuri puffed up instantly, trying to find a way to be disobedient. She stared Rick down with an unamused glare. Rick stared back, his expression completely blank.

Finally Popuri growled, stomping past Rick and out the door.

"You big meanie!"

Rick ignored the remark, choosing instead to stare at Kai and Claire. Claire coughed nervously, stretching again.

"Look, I can leave, if you want—"

"No you won't," Kai snapped. Claire glanced at him. "You're eating. Finish your food, and that hilarious story you were telling, then I'll let you go home so you can sleep."

Claire grinned, shaking her head.

"Today I'm heading to the mines," She explained. "If I get down far enough, there's Gold. I need it to upgrade some of my tools." She turned back to regard Rick. "I'll be leaving soon, really."

"All right," Rick crossed his arms, moving forward. Kai tensed visibly, preparing to throw himself backwards. Instead of tackling Kai, however, Rick sat next to Claire at the bar where Popuri had rested moments before. "I'll stay, too."

Claire shrugged indifferently. She knew the two boys didn't get along so well because of Popuri, which was why she was so interested in leaving. She'd hoped Rick would follow.

"Fine," Kai tersely replied. "Go on, Claire."

Claire continued a story she had obviously been telling Kai and Popuri before Rick had gotten there. From what he could tell, it was about when she was living in the city. In the story, Claire had a friend—Rick forgot the name; just some _male_—and they would do a lot of things together. Most things done would get Claire and her friend in trouble at work, but no one had the heart to fire them. Despite their troublemaking ways, they were hard workers and brought up moral.

At one point Rick stopped listening to the words coming out of Claire's mouth. His mind had wandered too much, and he found himself propped up on his elbows and staring into space, listening to the lovely way Claire's tone bobbed up and down with curious inflections as she continued with her story. He quickly realized that he could spend all day listening to the slightly breathy timbre of her voice, and he was convinced that if he had to put a visual aid to explain the sensation, he would automatically think of rose petals dancing in the wind.

But all too soon, the time came when Claire had finished her soup and the story ended. Rick was once again coaxed from his thoughts when he heard the soft _clatter _of a spoon hitting the plate and a satisfied stretch from Claire.

Like laughs, he found that Claire had a stretch for everything. If she was tired, she would stretch upwards, onto her tip toes. Likewise, if she was contented, her arms would stretch to her sides and she would cross her legs accordingly and bend her knees to stretch her calves.

"Well, I'd better go," She said as Kai stopped laughing. Apparently, the story she had told was rather funny. Kai held his hand out, and Claire shook it firmly.

"All right," Kai conceded. "Don't be a stranger, though. You have to come back some more. I'll fix you more soup!"

Claire nodded, promising she would, and left while fishing around her rucksack for her hammer.

The second Claire was out the door Rick had meant to follow her, but was held up by Kai's uproarious laughter.

"What's so funny?" Rick spat.

"You!" Kai pointed straight at Rick, who turned a deep shade of red. "You obviously couldn't see yourself while she told her tale, but after a while you got this glazed look. I bet you don't remember _half _of what she said!"

"I—she—" Rick couldn't think up an appropriate reply before Kai was on it again.

"My, and you came in here looking for Popuri! When you saw Claire, I thought you were going to kill me or something!" Kai slapped the table as if he was laughing at a grand joke. Rick glared daggers. "You've got it, Rick. And you've got it bad."

Rick backed up once, straightening and narrowing his eyes.

"I do _not_." He growled. Before Kai could come up with another reply he left.

That _insufferable _player had the _nerve _to tell him who was into and who he wasn't? He was _not _into Claire! He _wasn't_!

Rick plodded into his house and up the stairs as loudly as he could. He flung himself onto his bed. He crossed his arms behind his head and stared at the ceiling. He took a deep breath and attempted to sort out what feelings were clashing together in his head.

Okay, so he liked Claire. As a _friend_. She was a pretty _(attractive, gorgeous, beautiful)_, independent woman who preferred livestock to plants. Why _wouldn't _someone like her? Except for Jeff, of course. Since she didn't make any more crops, he had no extra money coming in, save for the strangely excessive amounts of flour she always bought.

So yes, she was pretty. Very pretty. But what else?

She was strange. Well, strange was the wrong word. _Mysterious _fit her much better than strange did. No one knew why she gave up the planting business and blocked herself into livestock only. It made no sense. Rick knew that he himself liked animals more than plants because they were something to talk to that paid attention. Granted, it was probably more the tone of one's voice than the actual problem, but they listened nonetheless. When he tried to explain this to Popuri, she laughed and said the reason was because chickens were cuter than crops.

Okay, she was pretty and an unknown factor. What else?

Could it have been for the simple fact that something just _clicked _when they were around each other? That he was filled with an insane jealously (he was man enough to admit it, now, it was indeed jealousy that hit him over the head when she talked with Kai) whenever another male was talking to her, for fear that they might like her?

It could be.

A door slammed outside, scaring Rick and making him jump halfway into the air. He looked out his upstairs window and watched Gray storm out of the blacksmith's shop and up the street. No doubt he was heading for the library to talk with Mary again.

Rick sighed, rubbing his eyes as he looked toward the clock. Analyzing the time, he realized he had completely skipped over when he told himself he was going to look for this treasure. Almost in a panic, he dove off of the bed and into the clutter of his room to look for it.

**XXXXX**

Fall passed by horrifyingly quickly, Rick thought. He spent more and more time with Claire in Summer and Fall, determined to find out everything about her there was to know. He didn't know what his sudden fascination was with her. If she gave even the tiniest hint of knowing something he didn't know, he _had _to figure it out. His curiosity was peaked more often now than it ever had been in his whole life, and he was unexpectedly faced with new enthrallments of the world on a daily basis.

It was the end of Fall by now. The twenty-ninth to be exact. Rick was busy watering the corn in their pastures to make into the last bits of feed that his family would need for the Winter. He had made sure that Claire had enough feed ahead of time. She usually let her horde of chickens (she'd updated her chicken coop mid-Summer, thanks to Rick's help) out into the field to eat, cooped up inside a small fence made to protect them against the wild dogs. It was early in the day, so Rick was confident that he would have plenty of time to water the crops and feed the chickens before going to shine his treasure. Once he made sure his treasure was safe and in mint condition, he would head off to find Claire.

He knew where to find his treasure already. He had looked at it the night before and remembered setting it on the desk next to his bed. He picked it up as he waltzed into the room, as well as the rag sitting next to it. He rubbed the rag on the watch in a circular motion, careful not to scratch or hurt the watch in any way while he polished it.

He rubbed the watch thoroughly for a whole minute before setting it back down on the desk and leaving.

"Mom, I'm going out!" He called, just as he did every day. He heard his mother reply, reminding him to take his jacket because it was getting cold outside and it might start to snow later on. Rick pulled his forest-green jacket off of the coat stand as he passed out the doorway and onto the street.

Finding Claire in itself was a challenge; one that Rick had come to enjoy during the last two seasons. She could be anywhere, he knew, doing anything. Once he found her at Saibara's shop, upgrading a tool. Another time she'd been in the library, after Mary told her she'd gotten some books in about cows instead of plants. Once he even found her on the beach, throwing the Frisbee she'd bought from Won with her dog Malak. It always took him a while to find her, he knew, so he started out the day hopeful.

He checked in the Rose Square first, because sometimes she stayed to read the flyers tacked to the bulletin board on the far side. When she wasn't there he went to the beach. Kai had left for the year, thank the Goddess, so she couldn't be in there, but she was often found hanging around Zack, her now closest friend. She, Zack and Won were like an inseparable trio, even though Won only hung around because he lived in Zack's home and Claire frequently bought his apples and other things from him.

No, Zack said he hadn't seen her since the night before when he went to pick up her shipments. Rick stared, perplexed.

Oh, well. No worries! There was still a whole town left to search. Rick started off with a content mind as he made his way to her farm. Maybe an animal had gotten sick, or she actually bought some crops and was busy watering them.

But, no. He called and called for nothing. Not at her farm. Rick scratched his head.

Well, there were other places to look, right? She hung out with Stu and May sometimes; maybe she was at the church with them.

Carter said he hadn't seen Claire since the Music Festival and ordered Rick to inform the farmer girl that she was to come visit the preacher as soon as possible.

What now? Maybe she was talking to Ann in the bar. Rick shrugged, sighing as me made his way to the Bar.

Ann scowled, saying that Claire hadn't been by for a week and that she missed her friend. Doug—who always had a soft spot for "young-love" (though the thought made Rick snarl and turn blood-red)—gave Rick a doggy-bag of steaming spaghetti for him and Claire once he found her.

But where could she be now? Could she have gone to look for Rick? He wandered back to the Poultry Farm just to be sure.

No, Popuri told him that she hadn't come since the day before with Rick. Lillia stated that Claire had left her coat at the Poultry Farm the day before, and if she was outside now she was sure to get sick. Rick left again with Claire's light-blue jacket.

Armed with the desire to find her, a message from Carter, the jacket from Lillia, and the food from Doug, Rick contemplated the next place to look. Could she be in the Library, reading some new book that had come in?

No, Mary said, but the book that Claire had ordered came in that morning, and could Rick please take it with him?

Sure, Rick was taking everything else of Claire's with him, why not a book, too?

By now Rick was worried. Claire was in none of the places she usually was in. It never took his _this _long to find her. Where was she?

Well, if she wasn't in the usual places, look in the _unusual _places.

How busy had she been when she was gathering the wood to upgrade her house? They'd spent practically all _day _outside Gotz's house, looking for logs to bust. Maybe she wanted to build something else, though what it could be escaped Rick. She'd already built everything Gotz would build for her.

So she wasn't outside Gotz's house. When the carpenter was questioned on where she was, Rick was relieved to hear that he'd seen her walk by lately while he'd been looking for food, though he couldn't tell Rick which route she'd taken.

Rick started checking by the hot spring, and stepped inside the mine to see if she was there. If she had buried herself within the mine, she would have left something of hers on the outside to show that she was in there. It was a safety precaution, she'd told him, in case something happened to her and no one knew where she was. Rick, however, couldn't help but think that it was for him, so he'd know she was inside the mine and if he wanted to join her to follow the stairs.

When she wasn't in either of those places, Rick went to check the winter mine. Tomorrow the lake around it would freeze over, and Claire would have a brand-new hiding spot, so maybe she was checking it out ahead of time.

Rick got agitated when he didn't find her _there_, either. There was only one other place she could be, then. Mother's Hill Summit.

It wasn't really a hard climb up the mountain. It was actually just a brisk walk up and a balanced trot over the bridge and you were at the top. Rick never usually went up there unless it was the thirteenth of Fall, and watched the moon rise. This last time he'd taken Claire with him because she'd never seen the moon rise from the top of the hill.

And yes, that was the _only _reason.

Rick trekked to the top of Mother's Hill and sighed silently. Claire stood at the top with her arms crossed around her shoulders, hugging herself and shivering. It was windy up here; Rick could see her hair wafting around harshly through the air. She had one hand clenched completely shut, and he could see the remnants of a letter pressed into a book through her knuckles.

"Here you are," He called loudly, stomping forward. Claire didn't jump like he thought she would, but she wiped her face frantically and whirled around. Rick hesitated, taking in her red eyes and sniffling nose. Claire had been crying.

And out of the blue, his relief was wrought with anger.

What had happened to make her sad enough to disappear from the town and come up here? _Who _had made this happen?

His anger made him snap at her.

"You know," He trampled the rest of the distance to her, and stopped a few steps in front of her, where he dropped the bag with the food and the book. He still kept her jacket draped around his crooked arm so he wouldn't get it dirty. She cocked an eyebrow at him, challenging whatever it was he had to say. "I'm not your errand boy."

She _laughed._

He had expected her to get angry at him in return, to yell at him, or quiet possibly even leave. He had expected a smart retort, a stamp of a foot, or a puffed up face at the _least_. Not _laughter_.

"And you're sure you're okay?" He asked sarcastically as she draped her arms across her stomach and bowled over, still laughing.

"No, it's just—" She hiccupped, a repercussion of crying and laughing within ten minutes of each other. "It's just that that was _funny_."

"How?" Rick asked, pulling her jacket around her shoulders and leading her away from the edge of the cliff, picking the food back up as he went.

"I knew you would come looking for me," She started as he led her down Mother's Hill and toward the lake with the Winter Mine. "And I expected an incessant worry that would have driven me up the wall. Then you came out with _that _and I was so surprised in the contrast that I couldn't help but laugh."

For a moment Rick shuddered. She _really _knew he was going to go looking for her? Was he that predictable?

"Yeah, well for the record, you were _impossible _to find today." He answered, sitting her down on the cool grass by the lake. Claire shrugged.

"Maybe I didn't want to be found." The other possibility rang clearly through the air, without ever being said.

_Maybe I wanted to see if you would find me._

Rick checked his wristwatch for the time before realizing he was beyond hungry. It was well past time to eat lunch. He pulled the spaghetti out of the bag and held it up.

"Compliments of Doug," He explained when Claire stared doubtfully at it. He pulled out one of the forks given to them and handed it to her. She took it gratefully and plunged it deep into the food. She probably hadn't eaten in a while, either.

"Now," Rick started. "Why were you up there in the first place?"

"Thinking," Claire admitted. She took a bite of the food.

"About what?" Rick hated when people asked that question to him. He hoped she wouldn't shy away from it.

Claire did glance at him, giving him a once-over through her peripheral vision. Then she closed her eyes and shrugged helplessly.

"All right, but you have to promise not to laugh at me." She demanded. Rick nodded enthusiastically. He would _never _laugh at Claire. Claire took another bite of the spaghetti as Rick picked at it himself before she asked her question.

"Have you ever had something so precious to you it's almost like a treasure?"

The question stumped him. His hand jerked and he nearly dropped his fork.

"Of course," He answered. She nodded, understanding. She held out the book in her hand for him to take. "What's this?" He asked as he took it in his hands, tugging slightly on it so she would let go. If she had resisted in any way, he would have let go completely because he didn't want to force her secret away from her. But she let it go.

"It's a diary," Claire said. Rick stared at the small brown book uncertainly before glancing back at Claire. "It was my sister's."

Rick felt that silence would serve best in this situation. He stared at the cover of the leather-like book, running his thumb over the soft cover.

"You can open it."

Given the invitation, Rick flipped the delicate cover open lightly. He skimmed the first page.

**XXXXX**

**Jill's Diary: Winter 14th, year 9**

**My parents got me this for my birthday! I'm going to write in this every day.**

**So, let's start with the basics. I'm Jill. I'm nine years old. I have a younger sister. She's seven. Her name is Claire.**

**We live in the city. We go to school together. That's about it right now….**

**Jill**

**XXXXX**

"All right…." Rick shrugged.

"Read more," Claire pointed. Rick glanced back and flicked to a page in the middle.

**XXXXX**

**Summer 15th, year 15**

**Honestly, could this family _get _anymore dysfunctional? Is that actually physically possible? If it were, I think my family would find a way to get there within the next few days.**

**If my dad isn't drinking himself into a stupor, he's telling me how much better my sister is at everything than me. Or he's buying more things for _dear sister Claire._**

**Mom's away from home most of the time, doing business and making us even _more _money. Well, _us _is the wrong word. She's getting money for Claire to get a scholarship to some college or other. I get nothing.**

**The sad part is Claire has no _idea _that this is happening. I keep telling her that that's the problem, but she won't believe me. I don't know why; we tell each other everything, why would I lie about _this_? It makes no sense. It's probably the thirteen-year old mentality; she hasn't realized that her parents aren't right in every single aspect of their lives yet.**

**Jill**

**XXXXX**

Claire was looking over Rick's shoulder at the page. Rick closed his eyes and sighed as he finished.

"Read the last page now." Claire ordered. Rick simply turned the book around and pulled the back cover up.

**XXXXX**

**Fall 23, year 19**

**That's it; I've _had _it with this family! They try to ship Claire off to a college she doesn't even want to go to and leave me here? She wants to go live in the _country_, damn it, and they're shipping her off to some math college or another. Whether or not she can crunch numbers seems to be irrelevant.**

**_I'm _the one who wants to go to college; _I'm _the one who wants to make something of their life! This makes so sense whatso_ever_! **

**I'm out of here. I can't stand this place anymore. There's a farm that our grandpa used to own with another guy when I was little. I'm going out there. Maybe the guy that used to live with him is still alive and will let me crash or something. What was his name?**

**XXXXX**

**I looked it up; it took me hours. His name was/is Takakura. It seems that he's been lacking in the updates on the farm. He might welcome some help around.**

**I just feel bad about leaving Claire behind. Sometimes I think the only reason she stays is because I'm here and she can't function well on her own. I should ask her if she wants to come.**

**XXXXX**

**I don't know why I bother _trying!_ Claire and I just had our biggest argument yet. She started begging me not to leave her alone here, and wouldn't even _think _of leaving with me. She seemed convinced that I wouldn't leave for the world, and boy what a surprise she's going to get!**

**I'm leaving this diary I've had for ten years behind, so when I'm gone Claire can find it and realize what douche bags our parents are.**

**To Claire when she reads this:**

**I'm _gone_, sissy, and I'm not coming back. Sad to say you might never see me again, since where I'm going is far away and I'm not even sure how to get there.**

**I'm sorry we ended things on such bad terms, but you're not going to change and I can't bludgeon your missiles anymore. I'm always the one picked on, while you're the one going to the college of your nightmares without a whine or protest.**

**I'm gone for good, Claire. Maybe someday you'll get wise and do the same thing.**

**Jill**

**XXXXX**

Rick stared in disbelief. He closed the book gently and set it on his lap. Together, he and Claire were silent for many moments. Rick propped himself up with his arms levered behind him and tossed his head back, watching the cloudy sky.

At long last, he asked the less hurtful question.

"If you were sent to a mathematics college, how did you end up here?" He forced his voice not to choke on itself. Claire shrugged.

"I didn't go." She answered. "By the time I found the diary, she'd been missing for a week. Sadly, it took reading my sister's diary for me to see that my parents had favored me over her, and picked at her for it. Once I figured it out, I took the money that would have paid for my college and moved away."

"And you worked?" Rick guessed.

"Like a dog," She confirmed. "I would wake up at six and get home at eleven. I spent enough money to pay rent and eat. The rest went to a private investigator so he could find my sister."

Oh. _That's _why she was working so hard.

"Did you find her?" Rick asked. Claire nodded. She reached over and pulled the book from Rick's lap and into her grasp. She tugged on the letter hanging in between two specific pages and handed it to Rick.

"I got this this morning."

Rick had purposefully ignored the letter and the pages around it. He didn't want to pry into what wasn't his. He held the folded paper in between his index and his middle finger, scrutinizing it carefully.

"Well?" Claire snapped, swirling her fork in midair to gather up excess food. She didn't look at him, which told him she was a little embarrassed to let him see it in the first place. "Read it."

Rick carefully unfolded the quarters of the letter, and from the easy way it came undone, he could undoubtedly see that it had been unfolded and refolded many times.

**Claire:**

**I can't believe you actually found me. And here I thought that you'd stay miserable your whole life doing what Mother and Father told you. I find it hard to believe that you left the minute you found the diary, like your letter said. And if you've been living in Mineral Town for nearly a year now, why do I _suddenly _hear about the brand new farmer, only for the last season?**

**I love you; sister, but I don't trust you. I will _not _go back to Mom and Dad. I've spent three years with Takakura and the rest of the town. I've gotten married and I have a child. I refuse to leave because my _elders _want someone to pick on.**

_**Jill**_

**P.S. If you see the need to reply, talk about anything _but _trying to meet me, or I won't reply.**

Rick laid the letter back in the book. A shiver went down his spine.

"Wow," He started, laying a hand on Claire's knee. "Claire, I don't—"

"I knew she would be angry," Claire admitted. "And a part of me didn't even expect a reply." Her voice broke halfway through and she threw her fork down completely, opting instead to ring her arms around her knees and hold them in place.

Rick kept his mouth shut.

"But it's only been _three years_," She continued shakily, her eyes glistening as she fought back the ever-cracking door to the dam of tears. "And she's been married and has a _child _now? How could I have missed so much?"

Rick's eyes softened. He draped an arm protectively around Claire's shoulders and tugged her close to him. She laid her head on his shoulder.

"It's all right," He commiserated. "I know it seems horrible now. I can only _imagine_ how crushed I would feel if Popuri ran off in the middle of the night and didn't tell me. And then when I found her, if she were married and had a child, it would have devastated me."

He could feel Claire nod in agreement on his shoulder.

"But you _found her_," He turned his head to speak into her hair, speaking quietly so she would listen. "Sure, it took you two or three years, but you actually stuck with finding her for so long. I'm sure your sister acknowledges that and is touched, no matter how callous her letter might be."

Claire breathed in a shudder and she blinked, going over what he said in her mind.

"I should write back to her, shouldn't I?"

Rick smiled, pulling away and looking her over. She actually looked more awake than he had ever seen her. Her eyes were rimmed with red puffiness, and Rick was sure that if he moved, he could feel his jacket damp with tears on it.

"You should," Rick finished. Claire stood, stretching her limbs out and rubbing her eyes.

"Thank you," She said. Rick stood as well, picking up the finished spaghetti and the forks.

"Any time," He answered, subconsciously reaching a hand out to run through her tangled blonde hair. His eyes grew serious as he pinned her in place with his stare. "You _do _know you can come to me with anything, right?"

Rick hadn't known he felt this way about her. She was a _friend _in his mind. It must have been when he saw her crying and was immediately ready to knock the daylights out of the one who did it to her that he recognized this feeling. The feeling that didn't want to leave her alone for a minute until she smiled without trying. The feeling that trumped all other necessities for the day.

The feeling that she was more important than his treasure.

But that didn't make any sense. What could be more important to someone than their treasure? In Rick's mind, there wasn't anything more important. His treasure was the end-all be-all in his life.

So, with no feelings of regret or uncertainty, his treasure changed form.

"I know," Claire interrupted his thoughts again. "And thank you."

Rick made sure all of their appliances and leftovers were packet neatly in the bag before helping Claire on her way to wherever she chose for them to go for the day.

"You know," He recollected. "I didn't realize that you knew I looked for you every day. I thought you'd start to hate me after a while for bothering you so much."

He was half-joking, of course. A small part of him was being sincere; no one but his family and Karen could stand being around him for copious amounts of time, and she'd tolerated him for a number of seasons without knowing him all of his life. He half-expected her to grow tired of it.

But Claire stopped walking. She grabbed his elbow and whirled him around to face her. Their eyes locked, and while he searched her light blue opals, she was staring intently into his own, hunting for some sort of answer.

Rick didn't know if she found it. She suddenly reddened, looking away and releasing his arm. She stared at the ground and sighed. Then that annoying, unrecognizable tone came through her mouth, leaving Rick more confused than reassured.

"I don't _hate _you."

**XXXXX**

He had offered to take the forks back to Doug himself, but Claire insisted that she wanted to thank him in person. They walked into the bar together, and once Claire recovered from Ann's sudden tackle-hug, they sauntered over to the counter where Claire returned the silverware.

"Thanks for the food, Doug." She smiled.

"I'm very glad you got the chance to taste test it." Doug replied with a knowing glance. "Did you like it?"

Claire shrugged aimlessly, her cheeks shading slightly. Her eyes took on the one look Rick could never recognize.

"It wasn't _horrible_."

Doug's eyebrows rose, and Rick's jealousy flared. Doug _knew _what that tone meant. Claire and Doug ensued in a short conversation that Rick didn't pay attention to, and she turned to say her goodbyes to Ann.

"I'll just be going back to the farm," She stated. "Next time I'll stay longer."

"Bye!" Doug waved happily. The door to the bar closed, and Doug sighed, exchanging a look with Ann. "Well, we found _one _thing she loves to eat. Write that down, and we'll go through the rest of them." He scowled and shook his head.

"Oh, this will take forever!" Ann whined. "If she would just _come out _and say what she liked and what she didn't, we wouldn't have to fish around like this!"

"Yes," Doug agreed. "But I think she likes it when we guess. It makes her feel thought of."

"Or she's just too modest." Ann glowered.

"Excuse me," Rick piped up, extending an index finger into the air. "But when did she say that she loved the spaghetti? I mean, don't get me wrong," He continued quickly after a sharp, accusing look from Doug and Ann. "I thought it was your best yet. But she never said that."

"Yes," Doug rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "It took me a while to figure it out, too. It's all a misconception on our part."

"Come again?"

"It's sort of sarcastic," Ann explained. "When she says things in that tone, they usually mean the opposite of what she's saying."

"Like…."

"Like when she said that it wasn't horrible," Doug continued off of his daughter. "That meant that she really liked it. A lot."

And suddenly, it made sense.

Why wouldn't it, really? She'd used it often enough, once alluding to her farm work being easy when Rick knew for a fact that it was near impossible to get done in the amount of time it had been. Another time was used when she was in the Beach House, saying she had nothing to do with her time. And then there was the first time, when she said she didn't hate eggs. And lastly—

Rick nearly bit his tongue to keep from gasping. She said that she didn't hate him in _that _tone. The thought of the opposite struck him like a blow to the head, and he ended up cocking his head to one side, not allowing himself to scream in exclamation.

"You see?" Doug asked after a while. "I see the light in your eyes flickering. You've heard her use it before, too."

"I—" He swallowed. "I've got to go."

He ran.

**XXXXX**

Nothing in the world could explain Rick's intense giddy feeling. Yet everyone could see it. His mother checked his temperature, Karen asked if he had anything special planned, and even Claire asked if something happened to him. But to each of these answers he did nothing but beam, and now that he was aware of what Claire felt—even if she wasn't aware that he knew—he could see the small nuances that now seemed unavoidable to catch.

When she asked if he was all right, she seemed genuinely concerned, and when the thought of her worrying over him made him grin even larger. This caused Claire to turn a deep shade of red and look away.

He'd never been so happy in his life.

His tremendous change of feelings grew when he went into the Supermarket one week and purchased the Blue Feather sitting prettily in the windowsill. He would spend the small amount of time he had to himself just staring at it, as if something could come out of it if he looked hard enough. He didn't like the color that much; Claire's eyes were a much better shade of blue, really.

Only his sister seemed to pick up on what was going on.

She nudged her brother's shoulder precisely a week after he realized that Claire didn't _hate _him and smirked.

"You look like you're in—" She stopped when Rick leapt up and covered her mouth quickly.

"Don't say it!" He shouted, still smiling. Popuri raised a confused eyebrow. "I want to say it first."

Popuri just giggled and twirled out of arm's reach.

"Who wants to say what first?" Claire asked as she opened the door to Rick's house and invited herself in.

"Oh, nothing! Nothing." Popuri waved a hand in the air, dismissing the questions. "I just forgot about the—thing—I had to go do." She leapt up and dashed out the door.

Usually nowadays when Rick was alone with Claire, a nervous feeing would lay over the giddy one and slightly mask it, and though it would never fully disappear, his nerves would certainly keep him alert and on edge. But now there was no uneasiness, no apprehension. Simply the extremely capricious feeling that he was staring at his exceedingly beautiful treasure.

He took that as a sign.

"And you're _sure _you're all right?" Claire waved a hand in front of the man's face. He blinked, and when his eyes focused on her he lunged for her. Claire gasped and almost reared backward in surprise before he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close.

"Uh—Rick?" Before Claire could get another word out and Rick could lose his newfound confidence, he pressed their lips together.

Claire gasped, but quickly responded. She relaxed in his arms and began kissing back. Rick chuckled as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer than before.

Rick pulled back before he did something he wouldn't want his mother to see, should she walk in on them. He kept his arms locked around Claire tightly, in case she tried to run. But he shouldn't have worried. Claire stared at him, breathless, her own arms tightening around his neck.

"Well," She breathed. "_That _was certainly the last thing I expected when I came today."

Rick couldn't stop grinning.

"I take it that's why you've been acting so weird, lately." Claire continued.

Rick nodded.

"So, I guess this means you know I love you, now."

Again Rick nodded. He licked his lips and finally spoke. "I just wanted you to know that I love you, too."

Claire let out a winded chuckle, the I-Could-Figure-That-Out-Myself-From-Your-Previous-Actions laugh. "And what a way to let me know."

Rick hummed and kissed her again, unable to resist the temptation. He didn't think it was possible, but her lips actually _tasted _like windblown roses. He felt if he pressed any harder they would crumple up and wither, and she'd be at his mercy.

Or they'd grow thorns and push back.

The thought of going either way excited him. He pulled back before the enticement to find out which she'd do could overwhelm him. Instead he pressed their foreheads together, breathing in as she exhaled and closing his eyes to savor the nearness.

"So what now?" Claire asked.

"You showed me your treasure." Rick stated. "I want to show you my old one. And afterwards, I want to give you something." He could feel the Blue Feather in his apron pocket practically pulsating at the thought of being used.

From the look Claire was giving him and from the way her fingers tightened and let loose from his collar, she could guess what was going to happen, too.

"Your _old _treasure?" Claire repeated. Rick lifted her up and began to carry her up the stairs, where he knew both his mother and his father's watch sat. It would be perfect to propose there, he figured, with the feeling that both of his parents were present. Claire would like that.

"Yeah," He whispered, indulging in his new freedom to stare into her eyes without reproof. "I have a better one, now."

**XXXXX**

**Yay! Just under thirty pages! I hope at least _someone _reads this. Anyway. I like this a lot, and even if no one reads it, I'll read it to make myself happy again.**

**So please review! I'm working on some other Harvest Moon stuffs, including a chapter fic about Skye (he will _always _be Steiner to me) trying to win over Jill. It will be called Beauty, so please look for it.**

_**~Amme Moto**_


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